Admissions

Of disappointment. Of failure. Of a genuine nature? Reduced admissions.

This year, more than most, fed-up fans, familiar with the fabulously feint-hearted performance of their beloved club and the frauds supposedly funding it are finally fighting back. Just how many times has that Season Ticket deadline been pushed back now?

AshleyOut.com watches with great interest, as many appear to be joining the #AshleyEmbargo – either knowingly or unknowingly, and are now setting the wheels in motion for Mike’s motor to make its move out of town. In a bid to plug widening gaps in the stadium the club have priced single tickets so cheaply as to make a season ticket the costlier option, or offer such little savings that guaranteeing Ashley your attendance becomes anathema.

“Enough is enough” seems to be the cry as jaded Geordies take to the city’s watering holes instead of the Sports Direct Arena (or St James’ Park to any normal person).

We would be intrigued to learn of just how many season tickets have been sold, and how much our corporate hospitality has declined following the latest shambles we call a football season. Alan Shearer being the highest profile executive box client to supposedly walk away.

Ashley’s admission of ownership, of failure and of dedication were simply admissions of concern. Concern that season ticket sales were dwindling, that merchandise isn’t selling as much as it should and that his shop is no longer benefiting from its association with top level football. If the club is a stage or platform for the show that is Sports Direct, then this show has gone from being on at the Royal Albert Hall to nothing better than a primary school production – and that’s still an insult to the school.

Whether the admissions are turned into action, we all watch in anticipation, but already doubts have been cast, as shown by the latest estimated season ticket sales.

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"What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s not the television contracts, get-out clauses, marketing departments or executive boxes. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city. It’s a small boy clambering up stadium steps for the very first time, gripping his father’s hand, gawping at that hallowed stretch of turf beneath him and, without being able to do a thing about it, falling in love."